


Pain and Gain

by Tomboy13



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Muscle machine Nicole Haught, Nicole has swagger, Pre-Relationship, Random & Short, Thirsty Waverly Earp, absolute nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22791625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomboy13/pseuds/Tomboy13
Summary: Waverly never considered herself a fitness fanatic, but there’s something about a certain Officer of the Law exercising that may have changed her mind.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 10
Kudos: 241





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in this fandom, and as such, I apologise for all grammar and spelling errors that may have slipped through. Let us never speak of them again.

Waverly Earp had never considered herself a sports fan. She had been dragged to enough of Champ’s sessions in the highschool’s basement gym, where the stink of old sweat and young men lingered on every surface, to know that as much as she appreciated the results, she had no interest in the actual process of getting those rippling biceps and washboard abs that her boyfriend was so proud of.

When they broke up, Waverly was confident that all that was finished with. Never again would she have to sit and count reps, or use the sweat-damp towels to wipe down equipment, or any of the other gross and tedious tasks she’d been assigned as the Loving Girlfriend of a gym addict.

It had come as a shock, then, to find out about Nicole Haught’s fitness obsession, early on in their acquaintance. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have; Waverly had immensely enjoyed the rare, fleeting glimpses of hard, toned muscle that was usually hidden by the thick material of the woman’s police uniform, and that kind of physique wasn’t born from the sedentary life of a small town cop. No, Waverly mused as she leaned on the bar and watched the older woman play pool, or as she hovered around BBD gazing longingly through the window at the station’s reception desk, Officer Haught must work for those gains.

And boy, did Nicole _work_. She ran on the trails in the warmer months, and in winter hit the treadmill; she snuck away to the next-town-over’s public swimming baths on her day off to race through length after length; she trained self defence and boxed for the fun of it; climbed; cycled; hiked; and, linking them all together, she hit the gym. Not that Waverly had committed to memory the detail of how the Officer structured her week. That would be creepy. She just...paid attention.

It was an average, mundane Tuesday when Waverly first realised how deep her problem ran. She was working on a case, trying to find a link between townsfolk who had been waking up with a kidney missing; finding a promising lead, she strode through the station, a sheaf of yellowing papers held in one hand and a coffee cup in the other.

“Hey, have you seen Wyn-“ She stopped short, hands clenching hard enough to crinkle the documents and send luke-warm coffee squirting from the paper cup all over her white shirt and the clean floor. She didn’t even notice; there in front of her, in nothing more than some short shorts and a sports bra, arms flexing and abs straining, was Nicole Haught, moving through a set of pull-ups. Her pale flesh was covered with a sheen of sweat, and wisps of ginger hair were escaping her perennial braid to stick to the moist skin of her neck and forehead.

“Waves!” The redhead cried, dropping from the bar and putting her hands on her hips. She wore a beaming smile, the smile Waverly secretly hoped was saved for her, and was panting slightly with exertion. “You caught me.”

“I...uh...” Waverly cleared her throat. 

“I try and grab some time on my break to pump some iron.” Nicole grinned, flexing a bicep, pressing a kiss to the exposed muscle. “These guns don’t grow themselves.”

“Um.” Waverly licked her lips. “No I guess not.”

The officer chuckled. “I’m kidding, Waves. I’m not _that_ much of a douche.” Her brow furrowed, taking in the small puddle of coffee pooling at the brunette’s feet. “What happened to you?”

Waverly blinked, looking down at herself and the growing mess of brown liquid, cooling across her chest and the parquet floor. “Oh. Um. I don’t know my own strength?”

After that, it had gotten so much worse.

Nicole Haught, suddenly, was everywhere, always either in uniform or in that damn athletic wear that made Waverly’s mouth run dry. Suddenly, in spite of the chill, Nicole would be in the bar in tight tank tops that showed off her strong arms, or running along Main Street in painted-on leggings that left nothing to the imagination. It was making Waverly think very un-Waverly thoughts.

_Yeah, so much worse_ , Waverly thought as she massaged out another bruise that had been planted on her by her over-enthusiastic sister. They were supposed to be sparring, but for some reason, the younger Earp’s attention kept wandering (crunches. Nicole was right there in the corner, doing crunches. It was glorious torture.). 

“How does it feel to be a loser, loser?” The older Earp shouted, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hands raised like an old-time bare knuckle boxer. “P-pow!”

Waverly rolled her eyes. “You got lucky. Let’s go again.” 

It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t see the roundhouse kick incoming. Really, it was a childish move; Doc was always scolding them for bringing their feet anywhere above the waist (“This is not one of those Mr Chan movies you enjoy so much; if you lift a high leg in a street fight you might as well throw _yourself_ on the floor, save time.”), and with the way Wynonna signalled the move she should have been able to register and block it with time to spare. It was just that, at that exact moment, Nicole had stood up, opened her bottle of water, and took a huge gulp. Sweat ran down her long neck, pooling in the hollow of her collar bones, and her stomach quivered from the exercises she’d been doing. It was a vision.

The next thing she knew, Waverly was on her back, and Wynonna was screaming victorious blue murder. Mumbling under her breath and desperately avoiding the eyes of everyone else in the room, the younger sister hobbled to her feet and wobbled out, ignoring Wynonna’s half-hearted platitudes. 

The changing rooms were empty at that time of day; indeed the women’s usually were, given that most of the staff at Purgatory’s police department were men. Lowering herself to a bench, Waverly sighed, touching the side of her face where a bruise would probably be forming. “This is getting out of hand.” She muttered.

Behind her the door opened. “I’m ok Wynonna.” She huffed petulantly. “It’s just a bruise. Not like we were just play fighting or anything.” 

“I guess you won’t be needing this then?” A voice said playfully. Waverly turned quickly, eyes wide, to see Nicole leaning against the lockers and waggling an ice pack at the woman in front of her.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks.” Waverly took the cold press, feeling a blush creeping up her throat.

“No problem. I’ve taken a few hits in my time. I know your pain.” The redhead smirked with a twinkle in her eye, as she slid onto the same bench as the younger woman. Waverly could smell her perspiration and the lingering hints of perfume, and it was strangely enticing.

She chuckled awkwardly. “Yeahhhh. I’m usually a lot better than that. I guess I was just...”

“Distracted?” Nicole finished, raising an eyebrow. Waverly’s mouth dropped open, mortification climbing rapidly along her spine and numbing her body.

“Oh god, this is embarrassing.” She managed after a tense moment, gaze averted.

Nicole laughed, a soft, warm sound, and placed a hand over Waverly’s where it rested on the bench between them. “Not at all. It happens to the best of us.”

“I doubt that you’ve ever been knocked on your ass because of a pretty woman.” The Earp blurted out, eyes clamping shut as she heard what she said.

“You’d be surprised.” Nicole responded with a grin. “The first time I saw you walking down the street, I tripped over my own boots and came face to face with the tarmac.” She winked, and patted Waverly’s hand, before getting to her feet and moving towards the door. At the exit she stopped, and with a quirk of her head that had Waverly’s stomach tied in knots, continued, “and hey, if you need some pointers maybe we could workout together next time. You don’t just have to watch from afar.”

Waverly lingered in the changing rooms until the ice pack had completely melted, wondering for the first time in her life how to surreptitiously thank Wynonna for nearly knocking her out.


	2. Chapter 2

Until she was in her late teens, Nicole Haught had thought of her body, if she thought of it at all, as little more than a convenient bother. A tall kid, somewhat on the gangly side, with a tomboy streak a mile deep, she’d been subject to enough teasing from her peers that it could more accurately be described as ‘bullying’. Not that she’d minded, in the grand scheme of things; she had her little friendship group, made up of other rough-edged youths who would rather be climbing trees or hauling ass around a hockey pitch than experimenting with makeup and gossiping. But it certainly didn’t give her any grand impressions about her own aesthetic value.

It had come as a surprise, then, the first time she snuck into the local lesbian bar aged 17, with little more than hope and a sunny smile to vouch for her, to find that not only had she grown firmly into the lanky limbs that the other teenagers at her school had so ruthlessly mocked, but that there was an entire subset of women who positively _swooned_ at a woman with strong biceps and an adonis belt you could use to cut ham.

By the time Nicole drove into Purgatory at the wheel of a small moving truck, aged 26, she’d developed a comfortable self confidence with her body, and with the women who appreciated it.

A self confidence that lasted right up until the moment that she saw Waverly Earp walking down the street in a pair of hot pants, midriff waving in the mild late summer breeze. It was only her reflexes that stopped Nicole’s ungainly face-plant from causing actual damage at that sight, and ever since she’d felt very much the gangly, tomboy kid she had been 10 years earlier. Only around the youngest Earp, of course.

The first time she’d spied Waverly staring had been mid workout in the crappy box room of a gym at the police station, and her initial reaction was the almost forgotten sinking feeling of being judged that had been a staple of her youth. She’d tried to cover it up with an awkward joke, something about her biceps and guns, but it had fallen flat judging by the way the younger woman had been looking at her, all furrowed brow and...spilt coffee? 

By the third occasion that she’d found the brunette gawping, while Nicole ran her cool down lap right outside the bar, she’d suspected something else might be behind the wistful stares and pregnant silences. It seemed only natural to test the theory - it would have been inconceivable not to, really - and if that meant her weekend runs now began with deep, slow stretches across the street from the diner where Waverly brought her morning coffee, or that her afternoon gym sessions suddenly required a few less items of clothing, then so be it. 

The day that Waverly took a foot to the face as Nicole was innocently working through her abs routine was the tipping point. It was one thing to hide her nerves behind her body confidence, but if she was genuinely causing the object of her affections discomfort, then it had to stop. The offer to work out together had been made more out of flippant hope that maybe she could still keep alive whatever this was brewing between them, rather than any kind of actual expectation that the younger woman would agree.

It had been a pleasant surprise when Nicole clocked out 2 days later to find Waverly hovering nervously next to the Officer’s locker, hands twisting together. She was wearing bright pink leggings that cut off just below her knee, and a loose low-cut tank top, the arms hanging deep enough to reveal the sports bra underneath.

“Waverly, what are you doing here?” The redhead asked, mentally trying to control the giant smile that burst onto her lips whenever the preppy woman was around.

Waverly shrugged. “I wondered if that offer was still open? To train together?”

And that was how they ended up here, like this, sweaty bodies tangled together, Waverly pressing Nicole down into the floor with her hands and hips and tummy, faces close enough that Nicole could taste the other woman’s breath as she panted heavily.

“I’m starting to think,” the policewoman said, her voice a low growl, “that maybe you didn’t need my help at all.”

Waverly giggled, giving a self-depreciating shrug, but making no move to get up. “Maybe I just wanted to find out what you’re made of?”

Nicole guffawed, throwing her head back. “You want to go again?” 

They reluctantly separated and got to their feet, circling each other like predators. Nicole couldn’t stop her smile from breaking through again. She’d seen Waverly fighting with her sister, under the (often contradictory) tutorage of Agent Dolls and Mr Doc Holliday; she’d admired the way the woman moved - like a dancer or a gymnast, all smooth lines and efficient flow. Seeing it up close - having the younger woman whirling round her, into her, _onto_ her, was something else. It was like water, powerful and all-consuming, and it had washed away any illusions she had left about this being a ‘’mere crush’.

The feint, when it came, was obvious, and Nicole blocked it easily, twisting her hips to avoid the bruising knee that followed. Still holding Waverly’s lead hand, she pivoted, dropping to her knee and using her body weight to roll her opponent over her shoulder and onto her back, hitting the mat with a thump. Grinning, she scrambled to gain purchase, resting atop the prone woman to hold her arms down with her hands, legs bracketing lithe hips. “What about now? Am I made of strong enough stuff for you?”

Waverly puffed out a large breath, chest heaving. She was smiling, but there was a serious note to her silence that had Nicole’s heart beating double time. She realised how close they were; somehow, in the passing seconds, she’d manoeuvred her top half down, until all she could see was Waverly’s beautiful face. “Well, Waves?” She asked in a whisper, eyes searching.

“Officer Haught, your shift finished 2 hours ago. Go home!” Nedley shouted gruffly as he stomped through the room, donut held in one hand. He’d been the Sheriff for too long to put up with whatever was going on between Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught on the floor of his gym. “Probably about _boys_.” he muttered as he walked away.

In the small, cramped space behind him, the two women in question broke apart. Nicole sat on her haunches, looking down at her bare feet, feeling embarrassment tinge her ears. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Waverly - couldn’t bring herself to see whatever emotions might be going on there, sure she’d over-stepped. 

The laughter when it came was unexpected. Waverly, her eyes scrunched up, was chuckling, slowly at first, then great, girlish convulsions. Nicole couldn’t help but join in. It felt good to ease the strange tension that had built up between them, the laughter curling into the air and dissipating any remaining static electricity that still hung there.

Sighing, Nicole got to her feet, holding out a hand to pull Waverly up beside her. “So, you want to call it quits?”

“I suppose so.” Waverly bit her lip. “We could get a drink at Shorty’s instead? To cool off?”

Nicole raised an eyebrow, and held her hands out, showing off her sweat-stained sports-bra and shorts. “Like this?”

Waverly subconsciously licked her tongue across her bottom lip, eyes dragging away from the older woman’s toned, athletic body and up to those gentle brown eyes. “Definitely. I mean, you look _great_ like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this little snippet of silliness. I always wondered about the scenes that must have to transpired to get Waverly and Nicole from “It’s all in the smile and wave” to “you’re a lesbian, not a unicorn”. So I thought I’d make some up...


End file.
